Broken Houses and Hearts
by mads.writes44
Summary: Harry Potter, alongside his best friends, has returned to Hogwarts to retake his his seventh year. Harry expected a somewhat relaxing year, his worries placated on Newts and accepting the post war effects, however when he finds himself falling into traps, quite literally, he starts visiting the infirmary often. Draco Malfoy starts investigating the reason Harry is always limping.


Chapter 1: 

Harry Potter was falling.

He had been on his way to the restricted section in the library, invisibility cloak thrown over him of course, when the floor from beneath him gave out, which brought him to his current position, sprawled across the floor, limbs aching and head pounding. 

With a small groan, Harry lifted his head to find himself in an empty, dark room, the walls a dusky grey, the same color of the shirt he had thrown on before he "had headed to bed." 

Pushing himself upwards so he was sitting, he examined his throbbing ankle and hissed in pain at his poor attempt of rolling it to the side, immediately stopping his movements. He sat still for awhile, unsure of what to do, until an idea came to mind. It was dumb, and could possibly kill him, but the air in the room with no light or windows had grown smaller, Harry's breaths coming in short puffs. 

So, he raised his wand slowly after forcing himself to stand, aiming at the wall to his left. A quick reducto spell and the wall blew, eerily similar to how the walls had fallen the night of the war. Harry pushed that thought from his head, running, or rather limping, through the rumble, his shoulder being clipped, which resulted in him sprawling forward into an empty hallway.

He groaned. Looked up. Then groaned again. He was in the dungeons, a good walk to his Common Room from here. Harry lay there, pondering the pros of cons of staying there the night so that he wouldn't have to move, but quickly thought against the idea. The thought of Pansy or even Snape catching him asleep in the Slytherin Dungeons was enough to get Harry moving forward, slowly. He threw his invisibility cloak around himself and made his way to the Gryffindor Common Room.

* * *

Harry awoke with a groan. 

"Harry, bloody hell mate, get up. We're going to be late for breakfast. Hermione will kill us if we're late."

Harry turned over slowly, eyes squinting at a half dressed Ron, pulling at his robes in attempt at making them look less wrinkly. Harry sat up, accioed his glasses and ran his hand through his messy black hair. 

"You look like you've been run over by a heard Harry, what the bloody hell happened to you?"

Harry shrugged. "Don't know." 

Ron looked at him, hesitant and disbelieving, but soon chucked Harry's robes at him, saying, "Well hurry up mate, Hermione really will kill us if we're late-" Harry watched at the color from Ron's face blanched as he looked at his watch. "Oh bloody hell we're five minutes late already."

Harry scrambled into his robes, wincing at the pain in his ankle as he stood. He'd have to see Madam Pomfrey for that. Ignoring his ankle's protests as he hurriedly followed Ron out the door and to the Great Hall, he ran his hand once more through his hair, trying to tame it. He groaned at the shot of pain that shot through his shoulder. 

Right, he had forgotten about that injury. 

Stepping into the Great Hall was about as normal as any other day, Harry and Ron had stumbled in late, though Harry had become accustomed to the stares by now. He made his way to the Gryffindor table, trying to hide his limp, but Hermione saw straight through his facade.

"What happened?"

Harry rolled his eyes, feigning innocence as he reached for a plate of eggs and bacon. "Nothing-"

"Nothing? Really Harry?" Hermione paused, looking worriedly over Harry's face as if checking for any injuries. "You know you can tell us anything, right?"

Ron placed his hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry tried not to wince. "Yeah mate. We didn't make it out of the bloody war for you not to tell us things anymore."

Harry sighed. "Fine. Fine. Fine. But don't go telling anyone, alright?" His friends nodded, though Harry expected them to anyways. Harry trusted them with his life, so he told them. "The castle ate me last night."

Seven seconds. Seven seconds and Hermione responded. "Uh, Harry what do you mean the castle ate you?"

Harry leaned in closer. "The castle ate me Hermione. I was walking to the library last night, when I fell through the floor."

"You were walking to the library?"

Of course she had picked up on that. "Not important. The floor just, gave away," he muttered. "One minute I was trying to open the door to the library, and then the floor gave away and I was in an empty room."

"Harry-" Ron began hesitantly, though Harry cut him off.

"It really happened Ron. I don't know why," Harry paused, pushing his glasses up, "but it really happened."

"I believe you," he responded, "but you should really see Madam Pomprey."

Harry groaned. "I will. . . Later tonight."

"Harry!" Hermione all but shouted, earning a few looks from the other houses. "Later tonight?"

Harry shrugged, a sheepish look on his face.

"You shouldn't wait that long," she said. "You'll only make it worse." 

Harry rolled his eyes once again. "I'm fine Hermione. I've had worse."

"Which is why you should go anyways. Just go, okay Harry? I'll help you with your potions essay if you go now." 

Harry couldn't turn down that offer, no matter how much he didn't want to go. "Okay, fine," he said. "See you guys later."

They waved and Harry limped to the infirmary, gritting his teeth in pain. He practically fell in the room when Madam Pomfrey opened the door, eyes widening as she took in Harry's state.

"What is it this time dear?"

Harry flushed. He had been in the infirmary yesterday after accidentally using a spell on himself. That had definitely hurt like hell.

"Ankle."

Madam Pomfrey glared, eyebrows raising at Harry in question. She knew him better than that than to believe he had only one injury. 

"Okay fine, my shoulder."

Madam Pomfrey nodded approvingly as she brought him to an empty bed, though the bed next to his was not empty. Draco Malfoy sat on the edge of the bed, glaring at Harry. Harry glared back.

Without warning, Madam Pomfrey brought her wand to Harry's ankle, straightened it, then stated, "Shirt, Potter. Let me see that shoulder of yours."

Harry hesitated, feeling Malfoy's eyes on him, though did as Madam Pomfrey ordered, peeling his shirt off, leaving his chest bare. He tried not to flush, as Madam Pomfrey gasped. 

"Potter! What happened to your shoulder?"

He hissed in pain as she placed her hand on the black and blue covering his shoulder, dried blood caking his shoulder. Harry shrugged.

"I'll be back with a potion dear, don't move."

Madam Pomfrey left the room, quickly stumbling out, leaving the two boys alone.

"Get hexed by a trip-jinx, Potter?"

Harry's eyes flicked upwards and glared into Draco's own pair of eyes. 

"Or did you just trip? You are quite clumsy after all-"

"Shut it, Malfoy. You're giving me a headache." Malfoy snorted, though Harry continued. "Why are you here anyways?"

"None of your business, Potter."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Oh, and it's your business what happened to me?"

Draco flushed, glared at him, and rolled his eyes. "Don't think too highly of yourself, oh mighty savior. I don't think that highly of you."

Harry flinched at the word, savior. "Don't call me that."

"What? Savior?" Venom rolled off Malfoy's tongue. 

"Stop."

Malfoy did not stop. "But Potter, you are a savior. You saved hundreds of people you care about."

"More people died!"

"Oh, Potter, you can't possibly believe you could save everyone, could you? It's not your fault Fred, Sirius, Dumbl-"

"Stop!" Harry screamed. "Like you're any better Malfoy. At least I didn't sit and watch as people around me died because I was too scared."

"You have no idea what-"

"What?" Harry spat. "What it's like to be scared?"

Draco was fuming now. "He lived in my house, Potter. Don't tell me that I shouldn't have been scared."

"He lived in my head Malfoy, since I was eleven! You weren't the only one in a tough situation!"

"Oh yes, of course. How could I have forgotten? You had such a terrible life! At least you have a family that loves you Potter! You take it for granted."

"You know nothing of my family," Harry seethed. "My real family is dead."

"What? I assume your muggle family beats you, huh? I'm sure they're just terrible to the almighty savior of the Wizarding World!"

"They are!" Harry was standing now, ignoring the pain in his throbbing, yet not broken, ankle. "I was starved every day, Malfoy. Forced into a tiny cupboard under the stairs. They thought, no, think that I'm a freak! You have no idea what my family is like!"

Malfoy was silent, staring into Harry's glowing, green orbs. "What?"

Harry sat back down, and mumbled. "You heard me."

Luckily, Madam Pomfrey walked back in holding two vials of potions. One an ugly, murky green, the other a glowing silver. Harry was handed the green one, Malfoy the silver one. 

"Bottoms up boys."

Harry chugged his potion, eager to leave the infirmary. Slamming the potion onto the bedside table next to him, Harry pulled his shirt and robes back on and went to move to the door.

"Mr. Potter, the blood on your shoulder."

Harry ignored Pomfrey's voice, making his way out of the infirmary, limping. Making his way away from Draco Malfoy. 

AN: hi! i'm excited for this story, and i hope you are too. if you have any comments or suggestions let me know please! have an amazing day!!!  
\- m g 


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